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The small steep path led down by the winding course of the torrent, among giant trees whose long mossy beards shone silver-grey in the sunshine, over roots which lay on the path like huge serpents, and twisted themselves into high arches, where the stones which formerly lay under them had been washed away by the water. The border of the stream was hemmed in by driftwood and heaps of dry rushes; there also the power of the water had in the early spring swept fallen stems against the side, so that they lay with leafless brances in wild confusion; but the knives of the forest people had cut a small path through the tangle of the brushwood. With fleet steps the men hastened down the valley; they sprang with long leaps from stone to stone, from tree to tree, the young watchman in front. He often swung himself high through the air, as a feather ball sent with a throw bounds merrily along; and wherein a wide channel impeded the way he repeated the leap back again in order to give courage to his companion. He had thrown the bridle over the neck of the horse, which, following like a dog, leaped after the man; to the steed also the roughness of the path was playwork. The eyes of the watchman measured with satisfaction a powerful leap which the stranger had taken over the torrent, and examined afterward the footprint on the soft ground. “Thou hast a powerful stride for a weary man,” said he; “it appears to me that thou hast already before now ventured on broader leaps on bloodier heaths. By thy footprint I see that thou art one of our people, for the point of the foot tends outward, and the pressure of the ball is strong. Hitherto from thy speech I have considered thee as a foreigner. Hast thou ever beheld a Roman footprint?”

“Their feet are small; they walk with a short step on the whole sole, like weary people.”

“So say our people who have been in the west, I have hitherto seen only the unarmed traders of the black-haired people,” he added apologetically.

“May the Fates keep far from your soil the Roman foot!” answered the stranger.

“Thou speakest like our old men; but we young ones think, if they do not come to us, we will certainly go to them, for their country must be wonderful - all the houses of colored stone, the whole year soft sunshine, and in winter the earth green, sweet wine as common as thin beer, the vessels and seats of silver; the maidens dance in gold ornaments and silk dresses, and the warrior is lord of all this splendor.”

In vain the watchman awaited the answer of the stranger; they walked together for a time quite silent; at last the youth took the horse by the bridle. “Here the road through the valley becomes better; mount, that we may arrive at our destination before evening.” the stranger laid his hand on the horse's withers, and sprang with great strength into the seat; the leader nodded contentedly, and whistled softly; the horse bore the rider at a gallop down the valley, and the youth ran on foot beside him, poising his spear, and occasionally shouting to the horse, which then turned its head to him, and neighed in answer.

“Who are the women there in light dresses?” inquired the stranger, as they halted on an eminence near the open country, and looked into the enclosure.

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